The End of a Foreigner
by ModernDivine
Summary: ...I asked him, "So what is Wonderland?" Ace said that in a dream, the faceless tools are easily replaced, but in this reality..in this war; no one is ever the same walking out of it.


I wrote this little excerpt for a 'story crossover' in my Creative Writing class about a week ago. I am amazed by Tim O'Brien's metafiction in "TTTC" and wanted to write this with another story (the whole point of a crossover & story blending) "Alice in the Country of Hearts"—this, by the way, is a manga and visual novel game. The manga covers a re-imagining of Lewis Carroll's classic "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland"; but is depicted a Japanese romance/adventure type.

-In all **Disclaim** of the original works: TTTC & AITCOH- _I do not own both works; and this fic. leans more towards a TTTC scene (if you ever read such a powerful masterpiece of war). Anyway, my syntax usage and grammar might upset audiences, as well as the lack of characterization._

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><p><strong>Crossover Scene<strong>: The End of a Foreigner...

It wasn't the first time I lost my mind. In fact, this memory ran through my head many times. You just didn't see it; you didn't see what happened; and, much of it is hard to remember, especially in my sleep. I stare through my words. And I remember the obsession of Lieutenant Jimmy Cross—his _love_ letters—carrying the weight of responsibility. And I remember the set up of claymores and gunshots and what they carried which varied by mission. And I remember the feel of surface tension beneath our footsteps; the grass was dark, bending low among the thick ferns and leaves in their quiet wake. It was a cynical world of Wonderland.

And, near the village of Tra Bong, where along with eight others, _he _slept in an aid station that provided basic care. This man was Ace. Curt Lemon would have described him as a lost fellow-literally; the young man had a notoriously bad sense of direction—who reserved much of his time in silence. And then in one mission, this man saved me.

I can close my eyes and remember at times I felt the awkwardness of an intruder, but I never asked: Why was he there? Why so alone? The guys, though, were impressed.

" 'said it's about some girl," Rat Kiley shrugged one day, "O'Brien, when you hear his sob story over the loss of a is foreigner in his country; 'said it was about a girl—Alice was her name. She was loved by everybody because she had a heart that didn't exist in this world"

Ace seemed like a _good_ man; cunning and went through routine without fuss. His eyes held a deep blue, yet even a gaze somehow sliced me open like a deck of cards. Although I remember his fatal actions of that day, his coarse laugh made me think he hated and loved Alice. I remember something he said to Rat Kiley.

"If you lose your heart, you can never return. You will be a role holder," Ace said earnestly. Then Rat asked him, "For how long do you think you can go home?"

This one did it for me. Ace was, in this context you would call, a dreamer—a delusional foreigner in this time of war: Vietnam. He mentioned that role holders in his "wonderland" are all a "face" on the clock. It's not said exactly who is what but we know for sure they represent hours. That's why they have no face, because they are less significant in his country. Everyone is a tool in his country and when they die, it becomes a cycle. Here's what actually happened:

We crossed a river and marched east into the mountains. Now, Ace having lost sight of the mission description, came to murmur what I could only point out as: "Role holders" and "Wonderland" inhabitants. This was no stereotype towards a war soldier. When we came across crossfire and Curt Lemon stepping on a booby trap, and then was dead, Ace did not hold back; but, shot randomly like time was running out. All the while, the angles of vision were skewed. He saved my six; and all the guys got themselves deep in the bushes, all camouflaged up, awaiting the next "breach and go". And then I asked him, "So what is Wonderland?"

Awkward silence filled the air and I refused to look at him out of sheer embarrassment for having engaged in the rumor over his dead foreigner. Then he answered in a strange riddle: "The rabbit brought her to wonderland. She suffered because of the death of her sister so she wanted to forget the reality, and dreamed so she could be happy."

And, then I heard a loud ringing, a kind of wacked-out music seeping through the air; weird echoes and stuff. And then, I realized I've been shot. The "roleholders" of this country came running with the blood in their hands; and like Ace would have described, "...the enemy has an empty face on their playing card. They have no purpose in this act of war just like those in "Wonderland", but their hearts are made of clocks.

When Ace finished, I knew that at the moment I type these words, the air around me is different. When I didn't find it hard to mourn for the others like Curt Lemon, I found it hard to accept I was even alive. I found it hard to accept that at the end of the mission, Ace was dead, too. A war story isn't about losing your mind to the ones you love. It's about the illumination of a card game; a finesse of role holders who play exactly the role you want them to be—nobody. Ace said that in a dream, the faceless tools are easily replaced, but in this reality..in this war; no one is ever the same walking out of it.

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><p><em>O_O<em>

_So, I'm fazed a little bit, myself. I understand a little bit of what it is like now to understand the work of an idea within an idea—pure metafiction. I daresay it is not even the closest to O'Brien's marvel of storytelling; and I apologize for the lack of angst and mischief in Ace's character for those of you AITCOH fans._

_Still, please let me know what you think! _

_Yours,_

_ModernDayJuliet_


End file.
